


For Me, You Are Real

by allourheroes



Category: Thai Actor RPF, offgun
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fictional Character Becomes Real, Humor, M/M, Sappy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Off is the kind of weeb who reads his favorite manga routinely and almost religiously. You know, if you count the way he'd get down on his knees and pray to make the fictional boy of his dreams come to life. And it'd only be fair, the boy is onhisknees in many of those dreams.But...that's a little different.[AU in which Off is a weeb whose relationships keep failing because he's too into Gun...who is a manga character. Luckily, reality and fiction find a way to bend the rules.]
Relationships: Off Jumpol Adulkittiporn/Gun Atthaphan Phunsawat, OffGun - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 74





	For Me, You Are Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [93GUNJA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/93GUNJA/gifts).



> I happened to see [their prompt on twitter](https://twitter.com/93gunja/status/1283017753549344770?s=21) for weeb!Off/manga character!Gun-who-comes-to-life and then I...did the thing.
> 
> This was fun to write and I really hope you like it ~~and I apologize for how sappy it gets in the end~~. 💚
> 
> The title is...sort of accidentally a _Theory of Love_ reference.
> 
>  _Special thanks to[SpellWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellWolf/pseuds/SpellWolf) for reading it over!_ :)

It’s been three months since Off’s last relationship ended. But that was kind of inevitable.

And it isn’t that he doesn’t _want_ to be with someone. He does. Really. The problem, however, is that he’s obsessed with Gun.

If he could ask Gun out... He’s dreamt about it...more than a few times. And fantasized about it. And fantasized about Gun in general. A lot.

Like. _A lot_.

To the point where it isn’t even a question of whether or not it’s unhealthy because it most definitely is.

Why doesn’t he ask Gun out, then? If Gun’s all that’s on his mind, why bother dating other people? Why string anyone along when there’s one person so clearly on your mind at all times? Why not confess and stop prolonging your own suffering? Is it just fear of rejection?

Unfortunately, no.

Gun is a fictional character in his favorite series. Written by Mae Godji and published by GMM, _Come and Join Gun_ is mostly a slice of life series about, you guessed it, Gun. He’s cute and tiny and wears oversized shirts and his smile is only as strong as his pout—which is to say his happiness and his unhappiness both can convince anyone around him to do his bidding. Or just take care of him. He’s mischievous and childish at times, but at others…

Off gulps just thinking about it. The way Gun’s lips look, the way he crawls around on hands and knees, the arch of his spine, of his _ass_ …

Off has read every single volume of _Come and Join Gun_. Multiple times. Unfortunately there isn’t any merch for him to get his hands on, but arguably that’s for the best.

How is he ever going to find someone in real life as cute as Gun, especially if he could have posters and figures of Gun everywhere? Whether for his own comparison or the discomfort of a future partner, yeah, maybe it’s good that there isn’t any merch.

Off is flopped on his bed, checking his social media as he gets ready to sleep. Someone messages him on Instagram of all places, telling him he’s hot and that they went to the same university, that they should meet up sometime. He considers it, but doesn’t commit, leaving the DM on Read.

Now, to re-read his favorite _Come and Join Gun_ for the hundredth time and probably come while thinking about joining Gun. It’s kind of his routine.

He flips open the cover, expecting to see Gun’s smiling face, sleeves so long they engulf his hands, as Gun explains how today he’ll be making cookies.

Instead, he sees the background of the kitchen.

Did he somehow flip to some hidden page detailing the design of Gun’s house? He examines it a moment in confusion, swearing that he knows everything about these books. “What the hell…” Off flips to the next page.

Still no Gun.

He picks up another volume. Maybe Tay snuck in and pranked him?

He has no idea when his best friend would’ve had the time and this certainly seems like a lot of effort, but Tay is always telling him to shut the fuck up about Gun and that his weeb tendencies are so embarrassing he no longer wants to be seen with Off in public. (He’s all talk, of course.)

But really. There’s no way Tay could’ve snuck in since the last time he read Come and Join Gun. He saw Tay yesterday but he...performed his nightly ritual after reading last night. So it’s totally impossible.

Off is flipping through every volume, manic, certain he’s in a nightmare, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Off screams.

Shocked, he clutches his chest dramatically and holds out a volume of _Come and Join Gun_ threateningly before seeming to think better of putting his precious in danger, and he takes in the sight before him.

A boy— Well, a young man? An exceedingly cute young man. An exceedingly, impossibly cute young man is swiveling idly in his desk chair, hands curled in the long sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt.

“What— Who the fuck are you?” Off shouts. “How did you get in here?”

The young man pouts and Off practically chokes on his own tongue at the sight. “I’m Gun,” he says. “Aren’t you usually jerking off to me right about now?”

Off’s hand moves from his heart to his head. He shuts his eyes. “I’m dreaming.” He breathes in slowly, breathes out even slower. “I’m dreaming about Gun. Again.” He opens his eyes.

Gun is watching him, trying to hide his smile.

“If I’m dreaming, does that mean I can—” Off stops himself, swallows. His body leans forward of its own will, eager.

Gun holds up a hand. “Slow down, Papii.” He’s grinning though and...and somehow it is just like Gun. The smile is coy and full of charm and _blinding_.

Off sputters. “‘Papii’?” he repeats. His brain is both overflowing with thoughts and empty all at once. Mostly, he’s just gone stupid at what absolutely _must_ be a dream that feels far too real. Real enough that he’s aware it _can’t_ be real.

With a smirk enunciated by his dazzling dimples, Gun nods. “You read the Puppy Honey extra so many times I started thinking you wanted to be my dog.”

Dumbfounded, Off utters a pathetic, “ _Woof_.”

It makes Gun giggle and Off feels like he’s about to faint. “Papii is so cute.”

Overloaded, Off falls back on his bed and closes his eyes. This dream is too much.

~

Off wakes up, the sound of _Papii_ in his ears, and he wonders where that idea could’ve possibly come from. In all his many, varied, _questionable_ fantasies about Gun, never had he considered Gun might call him something other than his name. “Off.” Or “P’Off.” Or even “Jumpol,” depending on the situation.

“Papii.”

Off’s eyes haven’t yet opened and there it is again.

He feels a kiss pressed to his forehead. He must still be half-asleep. Smiling, he murmurs, “Gun.”

There’s a hum. “Papii, Gun is hungry.”

Carefully, Off peeks an eye open to find Gun staring down at him. He screams. Again.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

Opens them again.

Gun is still there, the morning light filtering through his window, highlighting Gun’s rosy cheeks, his soft, plump lips…

Off feels himself reacting to the sight and decides he definitely _shouldn’t_ be staring at Gun’s lips. Or, if this _is_ a dream, he should, because he could be putting those lips to good use.

But!

But...he really feels like he’s awake. It’s all incredibly surreal because Gun is there in his room. In his bed. With him.

And yet Off could _swear_ he’s awake.

Maybe Tay was right. Maybe he does think about Gun too much.

Maybe he’s finally lost it for real.

For the moment, he’s just going to go with it.

He blinks up at Gun and Gun blinks down at him. Gun brushes Off’s hair away from his forehead.

“You’re hungry?” Off asks.

Gun nods eagerly, he pulls at Off’s hands until Off is up.

“Just. Just give me a minute, okay, G— Gun?”

“Okay, Papii,” Gun agrees. “Do you want me to stay in here?”

Gun here. In his bed. Waiting for him.

“Y— You— Er. Yeah.”

With his heart pounding, threatening to beat out of his damn chest, Off manages to fall out of his bed, right himself as the sound of Gun’s laughter follows him, and get into the bathroom while keeping his erection somewhat out of view. He spends a good minute staring at himself in the mirror. He can still feel the phantom touch of Gun’s hands pulling at his, Gun’s lips on his forehead, Gun fixing his bangs… He takes care of nature first, gets into the shower and his hand is on his dick before he can think twice.

He hears the squeak of the door opening and stops. “Papii?”

 _Gun_.

“Yes?” he replies, his hand stilling but not leaving its post.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Gun asks.

“I— I’ll do it. Just. Wait for me. Okay?” Off calls back.

“Okay, Papii.”

And he hears the door close once more.

Off can’t jerk off after that. Mostly because his current fantasy involves going back to his bed and doing unspeakable things to Gun and he needs to be able to _perform_ in order to do those unspeakable things.

He’s not sure how he’ll do anything else in the meantime, but he manages to get through the shower and scrounge up...toast. It’s not exciting, but when he returns to his bedroom, Gun— _who is very much still there_ —seems pleased enough with whatever.

Off watches Gun bite into his toast, watching his mouth, his lips, the way crumbs cling…

“Is this real?” Off asks finally, having not touched his own toast. “Are you real?”

Gun swallows down the last bite and licks his lips and Off shifts to cover himself. Gun shrugs. “Am I?”

“Gun, baby—” Off shakes his head. He can’t talk to someone he _doesn’t actually know_ that way. No matter how many times he’s said it in his head or whispered it under his breath as he jerked off. “Gun.” He sucks in a breath. “Please. I’m losing it. Right? I’ve lost my mind? Because all I can think about is you and now I see you here. And.” Off stops. “This can’t be real.”

“Papii,” Gun says.

Off is used to and unused to the name. This Gun who has appeared to him likes calling him this. “Mh?” He tries for nonchalance even if his brain won’t stop screaming.

Gun pats the spot on the bed beside him.

Off’s mind is all _ERROR_ but he stumbles over, takes a seat beside Gun.

“Papii can’t concentrate.” Gun’s thumb runs across Off’s jawline. He presses his lips to Off’s and Off doesn’t even know how to kiss him back, barely starts when Gun is pulling away again. _Soft. So very soft_ , Off thinks. “Gun understands.”

Gun slips down off the bed and onto his knees and Off’s brain continues to 404 at him as Gun settles between his legs and looks up at him. His lips are parted, his fingertips feather-light on Off’s mostly bare thighs.

Off is vaguely aware he had slipped on a thin tee and boxers and nothing else, that he’s so hard there’s no _way_ it isn’t obvious. Gun leaves one hand on Off’s thigh as the other rubs at Off’s cock through his boxers. Off stutters something that is most likely assent.

“Let me help,” Gun says, resting his cheek on Off’s inner thigh. His hands tug at the hem of Off’s boxers and Off lifts his hips enough for Gun to pull them down his thighs, all the way down his legs. “Papii, can Gun help you?”

“Er.” Off nods awkwardly, captivated as he watches the way Gun’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, then darts out to slide along the underside of Off’s cock, up until his lips can wrap around the head and sink down.

Off doesn’t know if he’ll just achieve the “little death” or die for real as Gun’s mouth is on him, hot and wet and _perfect_.

Gun moans around him, the sound muffled because he’s _literally sucking Off’s cock_.

Tentatively, Off puts his hand to the back of Gun’s hair, which is as silky as he always pictured it to be, and follows Gun’s lead as Gun’s head bobs on his cock.

Gun sucks him like Gun knows what he’s doing but ever since Gun said, in one panel that will never _ever_ leave Off’s mind, “Gun likes to suck,” Off has been picturing this.

And, fuck, this...whatever it is. Extremely vivid fantasy?

It’s so much better than he could’ve imagined. How can this feel so fucking good?

Off groans. “Gun. Ai’Gun, what are you doing…”

Gun removes his mouth from Off’s cock only long enough to, with far too much confidence, say, “Making you come.”

Fuck.

Off is ruined. He can only watch for so long before his eyes fall shut, the feeling of Gun’s mouth on him, the lingering image burned to his brain, and then he’s coming and Gun is swallowing as Off watches.

“Better?” Gun asks, voice rasping as he catches his breath.

Honestly, Off doesn’t have a single brain cell capable of responding, but when Gun stands up, slots himself into a straddle, he kind of gets where this is going.

Spent only a moment before, Off still appreciates, down to his very bones, that this isn’t exactly an opportunity that comes easily. You know, the opportunity where the object of your affection and obsession goes from 2D to 3D just to fulfill your sexual fantasies.

He can taste himself as Gun kisses him, grinds against him, and Off is getting hard again already.

Gun pushes him onto his back, breaking the kiss. “You think you’re gonna fuck me, right?”

Off just stares up at him helplessly and Gun grins at him. “Papii is _so, so_ cute. I’m glad I got to meet you face to face.” He kisses Off again, long and slow and messy. “Maybe next time.”

His hand moves to free his cock but Off beats him to it, pulling him out and stroking him to completion over Off’s half-bare chest and stomach.

They stare at each other, Off’s re-arisen problem rather _pressing_. Gun wriggles against him. “We shouldn’t,” he says.

Five minutes later, Gun is on his knees, face shoved into Off’s pillow, as Off fucks him.

Off is careful with Gun. This is something he’s thought about a lot, how Gun can look so small and fragile and Off wouldn’t want to be the one who hurts him. Except, you know, _a little_. In fun ways.

Draped over Gun’s back, he shifts his weight onto one arm so his other hand can come up and pinch Gun’s perky, perfect, pink nipples and, really, his imagination must be amazing to have captured everything about Gun so clearly and transformed the images into the panting, groaning mess of a man beneath him.

He’s not responsive in all the same ways Off had imagined, more realistic in how he shifts and how he complains when Off hits an angle he’s not quite into, and fucking him feels way too good. Like. _Impossibly_ good.

And then Gun is whining, “Papii, _Papii_ ,” and squeezing around him and Gun is coming and, helplessly, Off follows him over the edge.

Somehow, after a long minute of wondering what the hell just happened, they separate.

Off and Gun are exhausted, sticky, and staring at each other in Off’s bed and, sex stupid, Off says, “This is the most realistic dream I’ve ever had.”

“Is it a dream?” Gun asks, wrapping his arms around Off.

Off really doesn’t know how to respond. “How can it be real? I read your books every day and then you show up in my bedroom. I must be having a really good dream.”

Gun hooks a leg over Off’s. “Am I so easy to forget?” The pout is back.

And Off thinks, for the millionth time, that he would die for Gun, but never have any of his fantasies or delusions ever gone so far or felt so real. “Not at all,” he replies, without even needing to think. “Didn’t I already tell you? Gun is the only one on my mind.”

Gun’s smile is soft and sweet. “I know. Why do you think I ended up here? With my number one fan…”

“Fan or faen?” Off teases.

“That depends on you, doesn’t it?”

Off nuzzles into Gun’s throat. “Don’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” Gun says, stroking his hands through Off’s hair. “Not if you want me here.”

It’s barely noon and all Off has done today is fuck his fictional crush. What is even _happening_ with his life?

He’s vaguely aware that he’ll have to wake up at some point from his wonderful delusion and he clings onto Gun a little tighter.

“Papii,” Gun whines, head now pillowed on Off’s chest. “We should shower, come on.”

“Together?” Off asks. It’s an appealing thought despite how cramped he knows it will be.

Gun shrugs. He still hasn’t moved. “I’ll need a towel. And to borrow your clothes.”

Right. He looks at the pile of clothes on the floor and once again takes in the sight of Gun— _Gun!_ —naked and wrapped around him.

“Papii?”

Off should stop staring. He extricates himself from the bed and watches as Gun flops and stretches, wincing a little as he does.

Off could fall to his knees in worship.

But no.

He finds a towel for Gun and starts the shower. It’ll be his second shower in the span of a couple hours but both times were very necessary. After all, what if that had happened and he _hadn’t_ showered beforehand? Terrible. And now, with the mess they made of themselves, he definitely needs it.

Although...if this is only a fantasy...staying naked and filthy in bed with Gun all day doesn’t sound too horrible either.

But showering with Gun ends up being its own domestic fantasy, as he shampoos Gun’s soft hair and scrubs his back and Gun does the same for him.

He finds something for Gun to wear. It’s all too big, but that’s Gun’s style anyway. It’s just that now Gun is wearing Off’s clothes. If Off’s brain hadn’t been short-circuiting since last night, he probably wouldn’t be able to handle the sight. As it is, some part of him is numbing everything down enough that he isn’t constantly falling to the floor in shock, overloaded by it all.

Gun checks himself out in the mirror, examining and adjusting. He rolls up the hems of the jeans Off has given him. Finally, he gives his verdict: “Cute.”

He smiles and turns to Off and Off just nods in agreement.

“Papii, krab.” He takes Off’s hands in his own, swinging them lightly. “We need to talk.”

Normally, Off hates holding hands. But this is _Gun_. The very notion of causing offense by pulling his hands away is blasphemous. “As long as you don’t tell me to wake up.”

Gun laughs, dimples crinkling his cheeks, but then he lets out a long sigh. “You’re awake. Gun promises.”

Off’s gaze travels to the stack of manga on his desk, then trails back to Gun. “Mh. If you say so.”

“I was surprised to be here, too,” Gun explains. “But then I saw I was with you.”

“If this is real—” Off pauses, shakes his head, but at the squeeze of Gun’s hand, continues. “If this is real, how do you know who I am? It’s not like there’s a volume of _Come and Join Gun_ where Gun meets his biggest fan.”

“ _Faen_ ,” Gun adds, obviously thinking back to Off’s comment after they’d—

And there’s that, too. “And why would Gun appear in my room of all places? And then we—” He gestures at the bed. “This is the kind of thing I dream about.” If it’s getting heavy, he might as well go all out. “How am I ever supposed to get over you and find a real partner if I keep thinking like this? Or are you here to tell me I have to let you go?”

Gun takes one of Off’s hands, presses it to his own cheek. “Am I not real?”

Off is at a loss as to how he might _possibly_ answer that question. The touch of Gun’s hand, so much smaller than his own, and the soft skin of Gun’s cheek… Gun moves Off’s hand, bringing it to his chest. Off can feel Gun’s heart beating.

“You never told me how you knew who I was,” Off mumbles.

They’re both let off the hook as Off’s doorbell rings. Off startles, and this time he does pull his hands away—Gun lets him, but his frown says he didn’t want to.

“I should see who that is,” Off says, hand clutching at his own chest as soon as he’s turned from Gun. That moment was so scary. But maybe… Maybe it was scary in a good way? Off’s thoughts are jumbled and it must be on his face because when he opens the door to find Tay, his best friend is staring at him like he’s _concerned_.

Tay is stepping in without further invitation, closing the door like he plans to stay. “What’s wrong with you, Peng? I’ve been texting you all day and you haven’t even _checked_ your messages. I called Arm and he said he thought you were still here so I came to make sure you didn’t masturbate to death over your fictional waifu.”

Off isn’t actually sure if Tay came to check on him or make fun of him but this is weirdly perfect. “Ai’Tay.” He takes Tay by the shoulders, forcing a now very uncomfortable-looking Tay Tawan to stare straight into his face. “Am I awake? Is this real?”

Tay scoffs at him. “Really, Peng? Has it gotten that bad?” He shrugs away Off’s hands and jerks his thumb back towards the door. “You need fresh air.”

Off shakes his head. “Just answer me. Come on, Peng.”

Tay huffs and reaches out to pinch Off’s arm. “Real enough, Jumpol?”

Off flinches and pinches Tay back instinctively. “Oi!” He rubs at the spot and, angered, Tay pinches him again. And again. And then they’re just whacking each other until they call a truce and take a step back.

They stand there staring at each other for a moment, catching their breaths and trying to calm down. This is the problem with Off and Tay—and why it’s nice when Arm is there to even them out.

If the pain is anything to go by, Off is awake. And what sort of terrible fantasy would go from fucking Gun in his bedroom to being pinched by Tay Tawan?

But now it’s time for the real test. Off thinks to drag Tay into his bedroom but considering the state he’d left it in, he probably shouldn’t. He does, however, need to strip the sheets as soon as he can.

“Stay right here,” he orders Tay, and starts towards his bedroom, turns back to point at Tay, warning to keep him in place.

Tay is looking at him like he’s a freak but, given the situation, that’s more than fair.

Once in his bedroom, Off finds Gun in his desk chair, much as he had the night before, but this time Gun is flipping through _Come and Join Gun_. Layering surreal on top of surreal.

And there’s question two answered: He is awake and he can _still_ see Gun.

“Gun.”

Gun looks up from the manga, batting his eyelashes, plump lips pursed.

Off lost immunity to Gun’s presence the moment he left the room and Gun looking at him like that causes another momentary lapse in all brain function.

“Papii?” Gun prompts.

Off blinks. Blinks again. Okay. He sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. “Gun, my friend Tay is in the other room. Can you...come out there and meet him?”

Tilting his head curiously, Gun nods. He stands up from Off’s chair and twists this way and that. “Sore,” he explains.

Off nods dumbly and, before he knows it, Gun is slipping his hand into Off’s.

Even as Off opens the door to his room, Gun gripping his hand, he wonders if he’ll come out alone, holding onto an illusion.

Tay looks up from his phone and his eyes go wide. He greets Gun with a “wai” and looks in askance at Off. “Jumpol didn’t say he had someone over.” He clears his throat. “I’m Tay.”

Before Gun can open his mouth to reply, Off lets out a shocked noise. “You can see him, too?”

“Peng, I’m seriously concerned. Have you been getting enough sleep?” He leans close to Off, hand half-covering his mouth to not-so-secretly add, “You met a real person! And got him to come back to your place. Good job, Peng.”

Gun looks at Tay and Off with amusement. He greets Tay with a “wai” and his eyes ask Off what to do next.

Off swallows, gestures towards Gun. “Tay, this is…” He’s embarrassed. He has some idea of the face Tay will make when he says Gun’s name, but how is he supposed to get around it?

At his pause, Tay squints at Gun. “Hey. He kind of looks like your anime waifu.” He grimaces. “Peng, you didn’t hire a prostitute to fulfill your sick fantasies, did you?” Hands palm-to-palm in apology, he turns his attention to Gun. “No offense to you, nong.”

Off is offended before he remembers that what he’s about to say will only reinforce Tay’s view. “Ai’Tay, this is Gun.”

Tay goggles at him. “Come again?”

“Gun, krab,” Gun asserts.

Tay looks from Off to Gun a couple of times, settles on Gun. “Nong, how much is he paying you? He’s not rich, you know. He can’t pay you whatever fee you should be asking for.” Attention on Off, he continues, “Are you just paying him to cosplay or are you sleeping with him, too?”

Off waves his hand hurriedly in dismissal. “No, no, no. It’s not like that. I’m not paying him.” He processes the rest of what Tay said and flushes. “I’m not paying him,” he repeats.

Tay understands quite clearly what Off’s omission means. “Peng, you can’t be serious! You’re sleeping with some guy who has agreed to be Gun for you. For free. I don’t know whether I should be congratulating you or getting you help.”

“P’Tay,” Gun says, as if he’s known Tay for ages. “Papii didn’t hire me. I’m Gun. Really.”

Tay’s focus swivels back to Off. “‘Papii’? He calls you ‘Papii’ and thinks he’s Gun? I don’t know which of you needs help more. Or maybe you’re perfect for each other. Papii and Gun together in whatever mental institution will take you.” He smiles at them patronizingly.

“I know it sounds crazy, but—” Off pauses. “Oh! Wait!” He runs to his room and back. “Look.” He shoves a volume of _Come and Join Gun_ into Tay’s hands. “See?”

Tay stares at Off, then slowly looks down at the manga that has been presented to him. Placatingly, he flips through the pages, about to say, _Of course, Peng, whatever you say_ , but even Tay can see that something isn’t right. “Where’s Gun?”

Off gestures to the man beside him.

“Jumpol, this isn’t funny.”

Off waves his hands. “I wish I could explain.”

Tay has so many thoughts and questions, Off can practically see them all crashing into Tay’s brain as he stands there, mouth agape. He settles on something easy. “Gun is a fictional character.”

Off grabs Gun’s wrist and flaps Gun’s arm.

Tay blanks. Then, he schools his features. “We’re going to the bookstore.”

Somehow, the three of them end up in Tay’s car, Gun sitting in the back as Tay glances into his rearview mirror to assure himself there’s actually someone there even though he’s definitely being dragged into some sort of delusion.

They get to the bookstore and Tay gestures to Off. “I know you know where to find it.”

Off’s brows are furrowed. “What are we doing?”

Exasperated, Tay flings his hand around the store. “Take me to the weeb section, Off Jumpol.” As he says it, he watches as Gun—or _whoever_ this boy is—cling onto Off’s arm.

And Off lets him.

For all that Off has attempted relationships before, he’s never been overly fond of prolonged contact. And yet here he is, letting the embodiment of his fictional obsession _attach_ himself.

In the manga section, Off points to the third shelf down and, victoriously, Tay pulls out a volume. “ _This_ is Gun,” he declares, pointing to the cover.

Off and Gun stare at him nervously. “Um, P’Tay…”

Tay turns the cover towards his own face. There’s no one on it.

It’s no matter. “Maybe this is a new edition.”

“If there were new editions, I’d have them…” Off murmurs.

Tay grabs another. Still the titular character is missing from the image. He flips it open.

Curious, Gun grabs a book as well. He leans over to let Off look, as well. “Does Papii believe me now?” he whispers.

At Gun’s suggestion, they end up at the boba place next door.

Tay stabs the straw through the seal of the cup violently, far too animated as he explodes, “How can you accept this so easily, Jumpol? Besides your weird obsession with,” and Tay’s face sours, he nods towards Gun, “you’ve always been a smart, rational person.”

“Aw, Peng, do you really mean it?” Off leans his chin on his hands, bats his eyelashes at Tay.

Tay glares at him. “A man appeared in your bedroom, told you he was the dream boy from your comics”—“ _Manga_ ,” Off corrects—“and you just accepted this as fact?”

Off nods eagerly. “Mostly I just thought I was losing my mind but around the time he was sucking my dick, I thought, ‘Hey, Jum, doesn’t this feel a bit _too_ realistic?’”

Tay gapes. “I can’t believe you fucked a fictional character.”

Gun sips his milk tea, glad that his motivations for those particular moments aren’t being called into question. One thing led to another and, well, as he’s doing with this straw, Gun just...likes to suck. And Off had been too keyed up to even talk to him like a normal human being. It had seemed like a reasonable way to fix the problem. But one thing led to another and another and it turns out one of the perks of being real is the way it _feels_.

Gun’s not really one to deny himself pleasure for the sake of being proper. And he knows how (theoretically) in love with him Off Jumpol is. It’s why he’s here.

“I didn’t perform some magic ritual to make him come and sleep with me,” Off argues. “He appeared and then…” Off swallows, shrugs, shame catching up to him. “Things happened.” His face screws up in thought. “I didn’t make this happen, did I?”

Gun hums in question, as if he hadn’t been paying close attention to Off’s every word.

Tay shakes his head. “You just accepted he was Gun. You wanted it too much, Peng.”

“He’s Gun,” Off says. “He just… _Gun_. He looks like Gun and acts like Gun and everything about him is just...familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Do you get it?”

Tay raises his cup towards Off, a smile starting to form, but he immediately sets it down and shakes his head. “No. Not at all.” He turns, literally pointing the finger at Gun. “And you! You become real and the first thing you do is let whatever creep you find have sex with you? What if he’s some sort of criminal? A pervert?” He hesitates. “A _dangerous_ pervert. No offense, Peng, but you get off thinking about cutesy two-dimensional drawings.”

“I know Papii won’t hurt me,” Gun argues.

“And this ‘Papii’ thing? What’s with that? Do you have some kind of daddy kink?”

Gun blushes. “Papii like Puppy…” he tries.

“I love the Puppy Honey extra in volume two,” Off explains, trying to make it better somehow. “I’ve read it at least a hundred times.”

“‘Puppy Honey,’” Tay repeats. He doesn’t look like he finds that any less weird than if Gun had a daddy kink. A daddy kink is at least fairly common. “Is that a furry thing?”

Gun and Off both wave away the notion. “No, no.” Gun straightens up. “It’s when I helped rescue and care for a dog.”

“It’s so cute,” Off adds. “Three pages are just panel after panel of Gun petting the dog and brushing the dog and saying sweet things and being so soft. So cute.”

Tay can practically see the hearts in Off’s eyes. “Right. Cute,” he deadpans.

“Very cute,” Gun corrects.

“Too cute to handle,” Off continues, and then he’s mooning over Gun and Tay has a _very_ strong urge to slap his best friend. Which isn’t unusual.

But then something hits him and Tay hits Off in his revelation. “Oi! Peng, how does he know how much you love this stupid Puppy Honey thing?”

“That’s right. He also knew—” Off turns red, doesn’t finish the sentence.

Gun stares down at his drink. “Gun knows a lot about Papii,” he admits slowly.

Tay raises his eyebrows. “And how does Nong Gun know all about his ‘Papii’?”

Eyes darting around, Gun doesn’t immediately answer, Tay and Off look at each other, then at the strangers around them. Although it’s suspicious, perhaps this isn’t the best place to be having this conversation. Plus, if Tay is honest, he’s a bit embarrassed how many people just heard him refer to his loser of a best friend as “Papii” and he very much hopes that no one he knows overheard. Especially New. New will never let him live it down.

Off clears his throat, touches Gun’s hand, speaks softly. “Can we talk about it back at my place?”

At Off’s sympathetic approach to Gun, Tay is once again bewildered by this gentler side of Jumpol. He follows suit, adjusting his own tone. “I want to hear your explanation.”

Well, he _tries_ for a sweeter tone, at least.

The ride back is more tense and, as Gun had been extra quiet getting into the car, Off had actually gotten into the back to sit with him.

Tay looks back to see Gun resting his head on Off’s shoulder.

For a split second he wonders if fate has brought them together, the way Off had been obsessed for so long, the way Gun has seemingly been brought to life from the pages of a slice of life manga, how they seem to so immediately fit together like puzzle pieces.

Tay shivers. He had given himself goosebumps with that ridiculous train of thought.

Back in Off’s living room, Gun is much more reserved than he had been earlier, and it makes Off wonder once again if this is a dream, perhaps one that is turning into a nightmare. He doesn’t want to be the one who makes Gun sad and maybe, just maybe, Gun knows this, because he scoots close on the couch and twines his arm through Off’s and holds on like Off is the one tethering him here.

“I didn’t know this would happen,” Gun says slowly. “But…” He hesitates.

“Are you stuck in our world?” Tay asks.

Gun shakes his head, biting at his bottom lip, hands fidgeting in the sleeves of Off’s shirt.

“You could go back?” Off asks, and Gun can’t quite read his tone, doesn’t want to look too far into it, remembering what Off said about finding someone _real_.

“Why didn’t you say you could go back?” Tay throws up his hands. “That changes things completely.” His wheels are turning. “Just go back.”

“Ai’Tay!” Off whacks Tay’s arm and Tay glares like he wants Off to burst into flames. But he doesn’t hit back because Off’s annoyance dissolves into worry at the look on Gun’s face and Tay understands.

Tay pauses, schools his features along with his thoughts. “If Nong Gun knows how to go back, why doesn’t he? Did you choose to come here?” He leans close, tries to lighten the mood, “And if so, why would you come to _Peng_?”

Gun shoves his face into Off’s chest and, although Off holds him, his eyes flicker to Tay and he nudges Gun slightly. “Gun… I’ve read all your books, I’ve been obsessed with you for two years. Can you tell me what you know?” Vaguely, he remembers that Tay had interrupted, that Gun _had_ wanted to tell him something earlier. In fact, the initial reason they had started fooling around—which, still so surreal, even more so now that he’s no longer under the confused haze of would-be dreams—had been to clear his head. Off claws down his fears. “You wanted to tell me before, didn’t you?”

Gun finally pulls away, looks at Off. He pushes himself up and wanders around. “It was my dream,” Gun starts. “I wanted to find someone who loved me and it was there in my dreams.”

“Dreams?” Tay prompts. “Do fictional characters dream?”

Gun doesn’t respond to Tay’s question. Instead, he picks random things up and puts them back down, tries to occupy himself in whatever small way allows him to keep talking. “Gun saw Papii. Gun didn’t know Papii’s name at first, but it’s like I could see every time Papii picked up the book. It suddenly felt like I’d been dreaming of Papii my whole life.”

“Well, he’s been reading since first release,” Tay says reasonably.

Off stands to approach, stops himself. There’s something almost magnetic about Gun. He’d always been portrayed that way, too. It takes _effort_ for Off to resist getting any closer now.

And he knows Tay can see it, can see them. It makes him even more aware of how much control Gun already has over him. He had always been rather averse to too much touch and he’d let Gun do whatever he’d wanted. But the idea of Gun has lived deep inside him, a seed planted and now fully rooted in his heart, since the first time he laid eyes on the cover art of _Come and Join Gun_.

“How did you get here?” Off asks, his voice low.

“In my dreams Papii called me. I opened the door and I could see Papii clearly. More clearly than I ever had before.” He worries at his lip. “So Gun went through the door.”

Tay raises an eyebrow. “Then how do you know you can go back?”

Gun shuts his eyes. He taps at his temple. “There’s a voice. And the door. It’s still there. I could go through it.” He pauses. “And Gun knows.”

Off clenches his hands at his sides. “Do you want to go back?”

“Gun wants to stay. I want to be here with Papii, but…” Gun swallows. “I can only be here as long as Papii wants me here.” Tears are welling up. “Papii wanted me so badly before, but I was just an idea. If Papii wants, I can go back. And…” He’s crying now, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Papii can forget all about me. It’ll be like I was never here.”

Off steps in close, palms cupping Gun’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears. He doesn’t even process how he feels, just moves on instinct.

Tay clears his throat. “Should I give you two a minute?”

Off’s silence is answer enough and Tay slips out the door. Once Tay is outside, his mind goes right back to that silly idea of fate. He knows Off dreamt of Gun...and now Gun is talking about how he was dreaming of Off, too? This whole situation only gets weirder and weirder. He pulls out his phone and starts to head home, wondering who will listen to his tale.

Back in the room, Gun is still crying, ducking his head so Off can’t see into his eyes.

“Gun.” Gun shakes his head. “Ai’Gun,” he says, casual and affectionate and almost annoyed all in one word. He hooks a finger under Gun’s chin, urges him to look into Off’s eyes. “Bii.”

Gun chances to lift his gaze, eyes big and watery, and Off’s smile is tinged by his sadness.

Off’s eyes stray to Gun’s lips and back and Gun licks his lips and as much as they feel like they’re on the same page, the moment isn’t quite right. Some things need to be said.

“What does Papii want?” Gun whispers, even his voice sounds wet.

“Papii,” Off says, holding Gun’s face, “wants Gun to stay with him.”

“What if Papii changes his mind?”

“Gun, we’ve been dreaming of each other. Even if— Even if you weren’t real to anyone else, you were always on my mind.” Off sighs. “I think that means something.”

Gun nods, believes in Off the way Off had believed in him, when he had been drawn on the page but still drawn to the one before him.

“Gun, I love you,” Off tells him. He leans in, a breath between them. “Does Gun love me?”

“Gun loves Papii.” And then Gun closes the distance, pulling Off down to him so that they can clutch each other. The kiss deepens, Gun’s arms twining around Off’s neck.

Off bites at Gun’s perfect bottom lip, making it a little less outwardly perfect but proving in one more way that Gun _is_ real.

More assured this time, they tumble back into Off’s bedroom and Off swears when he realizes he hadn’t stripped the sheets. Fumbling with their clothes, they end up on the floor instead. Off takes the opportunity to touch and tease every inch of Gun’s skin, to mark him and make him not just real but _Off’s_ , and Gun does much the same, leaving his own marks in turn.

Gun collapses onto Off’s chest, ear pressed over Off’s heart. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs.

Off lifts his head, quirks an eyebrow. “You wanna go again?”

“Mn.” Gun shakes his head slightly, waits a second. He props himself back up, chin on Off’s sternum. “Don’t stop wanting me here.” He pouts. “I might disappear.”

Off scoffs at him, shifting until he can press a kiss to Gun’s forehead. “Stop wanting Gun?” He shakes his head. “Not wanting you, not loving you? Impossible.”

“ _Papii_ ,” Gun whines, but he’s pleased, grinning, as Off holds him close.

Off lets his body relax back down onto the floor, stares up at the ceiling, and Gun settles more into his side—although not relinquishing his possessive coverage completely. “The real question is how I’m going to explain you to everyone else,” Off starts. “And get you an ID…”

“I have an ID,” Gun tells him suddenly. He waves his arm towards the pile of clothes. “Wallet. Somewhere.”

Off’s smile turns stupid in his happiness. “Good.”

“Why?”

“You’ll know when I ask,” Off says.

Gun frowns. “Ask what?”

Off just shakes his head and pulls Gun close.

They’re real.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments keep me warm through the winter. 💚


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